Hail to the Foam
by X3nith
Summary: The seas will rage as the crew of the USS McCampbell enter the forefront of an expedition to an unknown land. What will transpire will shape history across the Gate and define the world back home.
1. Prologue

**Hail to the Foam**

 _A watery adventure through the Special Region_

 **PROLOGUE**

 _ **Excerpt of Personnel Report #44589291**_

 _ **Date:**_ _8/8/18_

 _ **Subject**_ _: Harris Cromwell_

 _ **Rank**_ _: CDR (O-5)_

 _ **Command:**_ _USS McCampbell_ _(DDG-85)_

 _Harris Cromwell (Commander, USS McCampbell) is a notable officer of the US Navy with a distinguished service record. He served initially as an ensign of the USS John Paul Jones (DDG-53) as a navigator. He made quickly through the ranks, becoming a lieutenant within 2 years of his first posting. He is at the current rank of a commander, commanding officer the USS McCampbell (DDG-85), attained 10 years after his first enlistment. Cromwell has been credited to be an effective leader and inspirational to his crew both officers and enlisted. His notable actions have included the rescue of a stranded fishing trawler off the coast of Japan in October of 2015, seizing of narcotics being transported from a Burmese smuggling vessel in June of 2016 and led his vessel and crew expertly in the KAKADU 2018 military exercises in conjunction with Australian, United States and Chinese air and naval assets. This has been an effective demonstration of the impressive of CDR Cromwell's abilities to both command his vessel and crew._

 _However, it must be brought to attention that Cromwell has been noted to be brash in his command of his vessel. He has had frequent incidents of insubordination to superior officers and a persistent insistence of achieving goals in his own method. Notably during rescue operations in Typhoon Haiyan, Cromwell sailed his vessel through extreme weather conditions defying orders to rescue stranded fishermen, causing damage to his vessel. Most importantly, DDG-85 struck a Japanese fishing vessel off the coast of Okinawa. Preliminary reports indicate Cromwell's inability to follow orders as the primary source of the collision. Destroyer Squadron FIFTHTEEN CDR has issued disciplinary action against CDR Harris Cromwell and he has been suspended from duty and DDG-85 has been moored at USFA Yokosuka for repairs.  
_

" **Great, exactly what I needed…"**


	2. Chapter 1: Dead in the Water

**CHAPTER 1: DEAD IN THE WATER**

* * *

 **1700 Hours  
8** **th** **of August 2018  
USS **_**McCampbell**_ **  
United States Fleet Activities Yokosuka**

Cromwell furrowed his brows as he fell into his chair, totally exhausted after a whole day's worth of _bullshit_. He let his eyes roll back, staring into the floral wallpaper that adorned the cold metal walls of his CO's cabin. His chair creaked as he leaned back, trying to catch a breather after the sheer hectic chaos that had occurred in the last 48 hours.

"Fuckin' civvies!" he moaned to himself as he recollected the previous two days' worth of events.

* * *

It had been a day of relatively calm seas on the 6th of August; visibility was good and the USS _McCampbell_ set sail for the open waters out of Yokosuka for a sea exercise between American and Japanese vessels. It was around 8 o'clock that everything went south, badly. Despite initial warnings by both the Navy and the Japanese Maritime Self-Defence Force, a Japanese cargo ship had seemed to miss or ignore every foreboding message that told quite simply to _back the fuck away, there are warships doing their shit_. Cromwell had left the bridge for his OOD to handle this relatively simple manoeuvre of sailing in a _straight line_. This combined with having all lookouts focused on the opposite side of the huge cargo vessel that was ploughing towards them, gave a very annoying and nasty surprise to Cromwell. He had only stepped back into the bridge to perform an inspection when he bellowed at the top of his voice:

"Holy fuck! That's a fucking ship! ENGINES BACK FULL!"

The _McCampbell_ shuddered as the ship's two screws jammed themselves into reverse, causing the ship to lurch forward. Shouts of sailors and screeching metal only confirmed Cromwell's worst fears.

* * *

Cromwell sighed to himself as he let the memories pass from the creases of his mind. Before he could finish a knock came to his door.

"Come in," he commanded, eyes closed in annoyance.

A tall man garbed in an NWU Type I stepped in, ducking slightly under the rather short door that acted as the entrance to the CO's cabin.

"Mike? Didn't I tell you not to bother me?" Cromwell groaned as he noted the golden oak leaf rank insignia stitched in the collar of the uniform of his guest.

"Come on Harry, you can't sulk in here forever." Lieutenant Commander Michael Sampson retorted, strolling over to wall-attached couch, stretching his legs out and resting his 8-point cover on the table.

"Yeah, well what do you want me to do? Sail this damn ship out of here and go on our merry ways?"

"Heh, perhaps." Sampson smirked slightly. "You are going to have to face the facts Cromwell. You fucked up. The _McCampbell_ has a 12 foot dent in it. You're damn lucky that nobody broke as much as a nail."

Now if this was any other subordinate, with any other superior, they would have been immediately reprimanded. However, Cromwell and Sampson went back a long way. All the way back to Annapolis. He was usually tolerant of Sampson's stark realism, which anchored his own sometimes incredulous brash foolhardy style. However, today, he was in no mood for it.

"Zip it there. I don't need you telling me this when I'm probably going to get fired for this. Hell, court-martial. Navy needs to cover its own ass for all the accidents that happened this year."

Sampson leaned in, "Hey at least you're not alone. Don't forget every senior officer on this boat is facing the same thing."

"Not making it better. Damn civvies. Thanks to you I'm stuck here when the rest of the fleet is out having fun."

Sampson shook his head. "I'll be on the bridge. We're going to get relieved at 0900 tomorrow."

"Dismissed!" Cromwell chuckled in a saddened tone. The door to his cabin clanked shut and he once again shut his eyes.

"Damn civvies."

* * *

 **1800 Hours**

Terrence Kimberly slid back the slide on his Mk 24 and tapped the magazine release button, allowing the metal box to eject onto the table. He released the round out of the chamber and set it back into the now ejected magazine. With a few swift motions he disassembled the weapon, laying the parts of the pistol onto the table as he began to wipe and grease the gun.

"Still oiling it huh?"

Kimberly looked up to see his marksman, Gregory Jones crunching on a Mars bar, looking over at his work.

"Yeah, you need to take care of a lady," he chuckled in response.

"Pffft, respectfully sir, that's the only lady you'll ever get," the sergeant laughed.

"Still more than you!" the young lieutenant retorted. Laughs rang out from within the armoury of the _McCampbell_ in response to their commander's comeback.

The beauty of the _McCampbell_ was that she had a full VBSS team of some of the damn best soldiers in the world. And here they were, a team of 10 SEAL Team 6 operators, sitting on their _ass_. All thanks to some damn Japanese fishing boat.

 _The only easy day was yesterday, huh._


	3. Chapter 2: Storm Brewing

**I just want to give a big thank-you to all those that gave reviews. I really love reading your feedback and I know you asked for longer chapters so I have delivered! :)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2: STORM BREWING**

* * *

 **0600 Hours  
9** **th** **of August 2018  
Tokyo  
Japan**

Itami Youji lay in his bed, sulking at the pending day to come. It had been so perfectly planned in his mind; today was the start of the annual doujinshi convention in Ginza and he was primed and ready to be first in line and lay down his hard earned Yen for the latest manga and novels.

 _Or so he thought._

* * *

 **1600 Hours  
8** **th** **of August 2018**

"What do you mean I have a diplomatic 'exchange'?" Itami shouted in anguish. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he relented into a face of utter defeat.

"I know you were supposed to be on leave Itami, but this comes from the top brass and not even I can overrule that," the man in the neatly sorted green camo overalls shook his head. A close look at the rank patches would see the man had a rank of a major general in the Japanese Ground Self Defence Force.

"General Hazama, sir, surely-" Itami desperately pleaded.

"No, this is final. You are going to have to deal with it. Plus, having the Americans' top special forces show you around might finally cure you of your incessant laziness," Hazama replied, cutting him off.

"Dismissed."

The door slammed shut as Itami walked sadly down the brightly lit corridor of the command building of the base. He cringed in his mind at the idea of "exchanging" with a bunch of Navy SEALS, and not just any SEAL team, but the famed SEAL Team Six, DEVGRU. _The_ _elite of the elite_.

"Why me? Why me of all the people that could have been picked?" he lamented in his thoughts.

Itami's track record as a soldier was never particularly admirable. He had, in his own words, graduated from an average college with average grades with no particularly desirable goals in life aside from pursuing his lifelong passion of doujinshi.

 _I work to support my hobbies._

That was a common adage muttered by Itami whenever asked about his military service. Despite all the rigours of military life, his CO's had been so fed up with him that he generally got away with it. Aside from the times that Itami was sent to special forces training twice for the belayed hope that it would instil some tiny particulate amount of discipline into this husk of a man. Alas, it was all fruitless. Itami at the end of the day was still Itami and it didn't help that the pay was pretty decent.

Itami caught a bus back to his apartment in Tokyo, the soft glow of the afternoon sun illuminating the clean streets of the megacity. Slipping his phone out of his pocket, Itami began playing a mobile game, becoming so immersed he almost missed his stop. Only the issue of him running out of energy in the game snapped him back to his sordid reality.

Hopping off, began the long trek up to his apartment in the building complex. Finally unlocking the door to his home, he slipped off his uniform and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-Shirt, before collapsing onto his bed and quickly dozing off.

* * *

 **0900 Hours  
9** **th** **of August 2018  
United States Fleet Activities Yokosuka  
Japan**

Itami and his entourage lazily approached the military checkpoint that preceded the entrance to the massive naval base that was the foundation of American naval operations in the far east. Even for a non-caring otaku like himself, he was impressed at the sheer size of the base from just the vantage point of the entrance.

He was accompanied by a hastily assembled squad of soldiers from the JSDF's Tokyo garrison. Notably among them was Sergeant Major Sōichirō Kuwahara, easily the oldest amongst them. Itami had guessed by his grizzled face complete with slight stubble and the various creases in his face that he was at least 45, if not 50. During the trip to USFA Yokosuka, Itami found him to be the most amicable, bar one. His stoic yet caring nature quickly found their marks among the squad and just after ten minutes of him dishing out etiquette on meeting the world's top special forces, some of the squad had started calling him mockingly as "dad".

And then there was Sergeant First Class Shino Kuribayashi. Itami shuddered at the thought of her as he led the group down the road to the entrance of the base. Since the moment they had set out, Kuribayashi had been totally fangirling herself over the prospect of meeting SEALS. She was nonstop spouting facts and anecdotes over the prowess of the USN's finest warriors. So much so that Itami almost pulled over the car to throw her out. At least he could find comfort in the young sergeant that sat next to him.

"Hey Kurata, shame we couldn't go to the convention."

"Um, well sir-" Kuruta stammered as he leaned down to the door storage compartment and pulled out a pair of mangas, still wrapped in their plastic, a huge shit-eating grin on his face.

A short strip of pandemonium erupted in the jeep as Itami interrogated Kurata on his "loot". It wasn't long before the car pulled in to the main access road of the naval installation and they were surrounded by concrete and asphalt. They then soon reached a military checkpoint manned by a few US Marines. Their hardened faces a complete alien look to

As he tried his best to adjust his Type II overalls to a somewhat presentable fashion in the mirror of the jeep, a burly US Marine approached him. Itami quickly discerned he was part of the Marine Corps Security Force Regiment (MCSFR), a highly well-trained unit of marines dedicated to guarding American naval installations.

"Stop, identify yourself."

Itami lowered the window, did as he commanded and showed him the necessary documentation. The marine chuckled as he saw them.

"So you're the exchange guys huh?" the Marine smirked.

Itami sighed as he nodded to the wall of muscle looming over him.

"Follow me."

The group did as he asked and followed the man to a waiting Humvee hopping in as the thick metal door slammed shut. The vehicle's engine roared to life and chugged along, driving the car down one of the myriads of roads that dotted the base, with the Japanese jeep following in tow.

* * *

 **0910 Hours  
USS **_**McCampbell**_ **Armory**

Kimberly was meticulously checking his gear over, a habit he had picked up back in his time in NAS Oceana. Well that was half of the reason; part of him just liked how everything _clicked_ in place. Making sure the straps to his plate carrier were tightened and clipped, Kimberly adjusted his Oakley gloves, feeling the worn fabric and battered padding that had seen him through the toughest of situations. The dim lighting of the armour only served to give the battle scars an even more austere feel to them.

"Kim, I think he's here."

Kimberly looked up to see his machine gunner, Parkes smoking a cigarette as he leaned idly on metal beam that met the cold walls of the armoury.

"Good, now ladies, lets show our guests a good time!"

A unanimous "Hooyah!" rang out from the enclosed space of the armoury, the echoes bouncing off the walls like a symphony of kick-ass.

Kuribayashi's shrieks were now even more noticeable as she glued her face to the windows, spotting all the naval warships that they drove by.

"Look sir! That's an _Arleigh Burke_ class! It's huge!" she excitedly shouted much to the dismay of everyone else in the vehicle.

"Yeah, well isn't our _Atago_ bigger?" Itami shrugged in reply.

"I think so sir, by about 1000 tonnes," chimed in Kurokawa who was trying his best to keep Kuribayashi from leaping over him to glance through his window.

"That's only for the initial versions! The newest are about the same!" Kuribayashi proudly responded.

"Well, whatever to keep the Chinese at bay," Kuruta added.

"It's not good enough, the Chinese greatly outnumber us in production capabilities. Look at their new Type 055 cruiser. Bigger, better armed and they are building eight of them." Kurokawa shook his head.

"It's not like we want a war with them. _(Or rather I don't. I'm pretty sure the damn convention will be shut down for a long time if we start having a war.)_ Plus, with Trump and his tariffs, our government is softening up towards Xi and his economic projects."

The commotion in the car died down for a bit as everybody sighed. The world was as far away from world peace and the global political situation wasn't hiding it. With the escalation of the Syrian Civil War and the brewing trade war between China and the US, things weren't looking too nice and dandy for humanity.

The peace was quickly broken by a high-pitched shout coming straight from Kuribayashi as she sighted something in the distance.

"Oh my god! Look everybody! That's a Nimitz!" Kuribayashi pointed madly into the horizon as the silhouette of a massive aircraft carrier sailed on by, the Sun gleaming off its naval grey painted exterior as the ear-deafening whoosh of two low flying F/A-18Es punctuated the atmosphere overhead.

"Look at them go!" Kuribayashi laughed in excitement. Even the tight lipped Kurokawa emitted a smile at the awesomeness of the naval jets that zoomed past.

The two vehicles slipped past a mire of various equipment, vehicles, vessels, buildings and machinery as they continued down the road. The sheer scale of the naval base was hard to comprehend, especially for a couple of soldiers driving right through the middle of it. To their left were two massive drydocks, empty of any ships needing service but ready to accommodate even the biggest of warships. Their concrete hulks like the walls to a fortress, the cranes like siege weapons. Itami could make out dozens of various personnel attending to their posts, littering the massive installation like ants in an unearthed mound. Some attended to trucks while others were hard at work constructing various buildings all around. Certainly the US Navy was making good use of its budget injections.

Eventually the convoy of two jeeps made a left turn from the centre road of the base, allowing them to reach the docks, where only one ship was currently moored. It was obviously an Arleigh Burke, bearing the pennant number 85. The leading Humvee braked along side the dock, parking next to several other cars lined up neatly by the pier. Small cargo cranes rested along the edge of the dock as water gently pattered up the barnacled concrete of the pier. The Japanese vehicle did the same, coming to a rest a few metres behind. The soft whirring of the diesel engine died down as Itami took the keys out of the ignition. The doors of the car swung open as the marine beckoned them out, leading them to a gangway that extended out to the waist of the warship. A tall man garbed in American naval fatigues along with an eight-pointed cap was waiting. Behind him stood an even taller man outfitted in full combat gear, plate carrier, helmet and all; a SEAL.

Itami immediately recognised the rank of the man in fatigues and snapped to attention, trying his best to put on a serious expression as his left hand raised into a salute.

"2nd Lieutenant Itami Youji of the Japanese Ground Self Defence Force, 1st Airborne Brigade!"

The man nodded and responded with a salute in hand. "Commander Harris Cromwell. On behalf of all my crew, I welcome you aboard the USS _McCampbell_."

The rest of Itami's group exchanged their greetings with the CO of DDG-85, with the SEAL in full combat garb waiting emotionless and patient behind Cromwell. Only Kuribayashi dare approach.

"So you must be a SEAL!" she smiled zealously.

"Yes, I am. I assume we will be conducting an exchange with you and the rest of your squad?"

"Indeed. I'm Sergeant Shino Kuribayashi. Great to meet you."

"Like wise, Lieutenant Terrence Kimberly, I'm sure-" Kimberly was then promptly cut off by Kuribayashi's incessant questioning.

"So, what SEAL team are you guys with? What's your body count like? Did you help take down Bin Laden? I heard you guys jump off helicopters into the water and-"

 _Oh, this will be a great fucking day._

* * *

 **At the same time**

Alnus Hill was borne with glowing light as thousands of torches lit the night sky. Before the full moon on the Empire's most holy ground, stood the combined expeditionary legion of the Empire. Hundreds of thousands of infantry stood by, spears, swords and other weapons at the ready. If one looked close enough, the silhouettes of dozens of flying beasts slipped past the starry night sky, cascading looming shadows over the mass of men and demi-men below. The trotting of horse hooves punctuated the landscape as a man clad in golden emblazoned armour surveyed his troops.

"Legatus Dorvailing, sir, your troops are ready. Every centurion has reported that the men under his command is ready to march forth to battle."

"Excellent, what of Praetor Clarvarius? Are his war fleets ready to sail?"

The Tribune smiled proudly. "Ready to ram the foe into the oblivion of Hardy."

Dorvailing chuckled at the sound of this. He looked on into the distance mounted on his trusty steed clad in the same armour as him, sword dangling down in a golden sheath with intricate carving. He could sea the rows of mean standing in front of the monolithic structure, that was the Gate. Its entrance sparkling a dim blue glow, like a whirring maelstrom of contempt and conquest.

"Truly Hardoran, great glories lay before us. Send the message. Let us advance! Bring honour and victory to the Empire once more. Let us crush whatever puny foe lies beyond this gate and bring glory for the Empire!"

"My pleasure sir!" Hardoran smiled as he raced on off to announce the message to the legions.

 _This will be another mark in the great scroll of my victories._


	4. Chapter 3: Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

**WHOAH, THIS ONE TOOK QUITE THE TIME TO PUT OUT. SORRY ABOUT THAT GUYS, BUT DUTY CALLS FOR CHRISTMAS TIME CELEBRATIONS. ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS WONDERFUL SPECTACLE THAT IS ABOUT TO UNFOLD. P.S. HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YOU ALL AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.**

 **CHAPTER 3: WRONG PLACE AT THE WRONG TIME**

* * *

 **1000 Hours  
9** **th** **August 2018  
USS **_**McCampbell**_ **Armoury**

"So, ladies and gentlemen, here we are; the armoury of this ship," Cromwell led the party through a tight corridor, ducking his head down under a bulkhead door, holding onto its robust and cold metal edge for support.

Everyone from the Japanese squad looked around in curiosity; first noticing how small and cramped the room was. It was like an enclosed metal box, a metal box with a whole lot of fun and deadly toys inside. Weapons and ammunition were laid neatly around the whole space. Gun racks attached to the walls held everything from a multitude of M4 SOPMOD carbines to newer HK416s. Found on an ammo crate was a selection of three MP5s and a single MP7. The dim lighting of the room finally revealed a small plastic folding table, its surface scuffed and roughened from years of use. Two small crates sat on it, one of them holding M67 frag grenades and the other M84 stun grenades, like delicate _deadly_ eggs sitting in their metallic cartons. Their gaze on the assortment of grenades didn't last long as they were overshadowed by a massive black rifle resting on its bipod.

"A Barrett M107 anti-material rifle chambered in .50 Browning Machine Gun," Kuribayashi immediately identified for the rest of her squad.

"Yeah, you want to know her name?" Jones chuckled.

"It has a name?" Itami asked, puzzled to the American custom of frequently naming their firearms.

"Yes, _she_ , has a name. It's _Ashe_ ," Jones retorted.

"Any reason behind that?" Kurokawa chimed in.

"Sure, its short for _**A**_ _nnoying_ _ **S**_ _hit_ _ **h**_ _ead_ _ **E**_ _liminator"_

Both Jones and Kurokawa exchanged laughs before they were both silenced by their respective commanders.

"Well, I'll leave you to the SEALs to take over. If you need me for anything, I will be on the bridge."

 _To sulk over this collision bullshit._

Itami nodded and thanked Cromwell for his time, before turning towards the SEALs.

"So, uh, what's up first?" Itami asked, cursing his Hazama for not providing an itinerary.

Kimberly causally turned around and picked up a HK416 from one of the racks on the wall. It was intimately detailed and personalised, with various inscriptions and marks etched into its rugged alloy frame. One could instantly tell it was Kimberly's personal weapon.

"Well, let's start off with some target practice. Let's make sure you guys know how to shoot a gun," Kimberly chuckled.

* * *

 **At the same time**

The centurion strode back and forth in front of his troops, surveying his forces as the dim lighting of torches cast the shadows of their formidable weapons and gear. Then a shadowy figure stood forth, causing both the centurion and the rest of the troops to stop dead at attention and outstretch their right arms high into the sky.

"Excellent. Centurion, I assume my personal centuria is at the ready?"

"Of course Viscount Herm. They are ready to charge into the depths of Hardy and beyond!" A cacophony of cheers rang out from the centuria as Herm smiled. Herm Fule Maio, was only 23 years of age but he was ambitious. This would be his first real taste of combat, a glorious entry into the art of warfare. Stroking the golden hilt of his sword he began to imagine the events that would soon unfold; mercilessly slicing down troops of the pitiful foe that awaited them beyond the gate. Perhaps even decapitating some important leader.

"Fanciful thoughts just a few hundred paces away from reality," he thought as he looked on to the swirling blue vortexes of the gate that lay on the hillside.

"Just a pity Pina couldn't make it huh?" some laughed behind him.

Turning around, Herm saw his long-time friend and comrade.

"Legatus Calasta! I had no idea you would be here; weren't you tending to your troops?"

"Sure, but those damn demis can go kill themselves. Ungrateful swines they are. I left my centurion to fix them up before I have to kill them myself," muttered Calasta.

"Heh, at least they're in the rightful place. Lowly beasts, but they are useful as shields" scoffed Herm as they sniggered in agreement, careful to not let their troops overhear.

"And what of Mudra? Where is he?" asked Calasta

"Probably tending to his vessel. He said he had recently upgraded his ballistae with bolts forged from dragon scales. Emroy knows how he afforded that,"

"Well it helps his family own the gold mines,"

"True."

* * *

 **Meanwhile**

Praetor Mudra paced back and forth his warship, _Emroy's Trident_ , his knuckles white from clenching them.

"Argh! How much longer must we wait!" he shouted in anger.

"I'm sorry sir, Praetor Clarvarius has not given us the signal. We must still wait," the trierarch nervously replied.

"Damn him! That foolish old man! I thirst for battle! I hunger for the wanton destruction of enemy fleets! Bring me war!" Mudra screamed at the top of his lungs.

If the crew of _Emroy's Trident_ were not as seasoned they would have reckoned their commanding officer insane, but these rants were to be expected for this crew who had endured for years Mudra's incessant wants of battle.

Just as Mudra raised his fists to begin another bout, a large eminent glow erupted from one of the leading ships in the water. This was then accompanied by a triumphant blow from a war horn that roared throughout the sea.

Everyone knew what it meant.

 _War._

* * *

 **1030 Hours  
9** **th** **August 2018**

Shots pinged back and forth as sparks flew off the metal practice targets. Hot brass landed on the cold concrete, clinking with each round expended.

"Not bad, not bad at all," said Kimberly as he stood up and took out his ear plugs.

Itami sighed as he fumbled with the magazine ejector switch of the M4A1 he was given, finally getting the magazine to drop onto the table as he flicked on the safety of the gun before putting it down.

"Thanks, it's a pretty decent weapon you guys got," Itami replied, trying best to smile.

"Lighter than the Type 64s I used to use," chimed in Kurokawa as he gleefully inspected the modular design of the rifle.

"Geez gramps, how old are you? We've got the Type 89s now," ribbed Kuribayashi as she fiddled with the STANAG magazine of the M4.

"Well ladies, my turn," Kimberly chuckled as he reinserted his ear plugs and loaded his HK416 with a fresh magazine, the metal box clicking into place with a satisfying sound. Assuming the firing position, he expertly aimed the rifle onto target, shifting the rifle's stock on his shoulder as he prepared to depress the trigger. He only managed to fire off a single round before the roar of alarms rang out throughout the entire base.

"What in the hell?" shouted Kimberly, ripping the ear plugs out of his ears and dropping his rifle back onto the table.

He was now well aware to the shrieking alarms that permeated the entirety of the facility.

* * *

 **10 minutes earlier  
Ginza  
Tokyo**

The searing sun of the waning days of summer was now in full swing above the skies of Tokyo. Throughout the city saw thousands of people moving about the bustling metropolis.

Ginza, the famed uptown shopping district was alive as usual with innumerable amounts of pedestrians and cars as people rushed to shop for the newest and trendiest products.

Children with popsicles in tow happily followed their parents as busy men in business suits rushed to get onto buses.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Until _it_ appeared.

Only a few people took note of it at first, but eventually the traffic began to freeze up as dozens of pedestrians stared at a strange structure materialising out of thin air, shimmering and fizzling as if it were an image having its opacity increased. By the next minute hundreds paused to see what on Earth it was. It was massive, looked like it was furnished out of marble and was emblazoned with gems and inside the middle held a black void that growled with swirls of blue energy.

What was it? Some kind of movie prop?

The trance of people was broken by the deafening cry of a war horn; it all happened so fast. Hundreds of men uniformed in strange old armour began to pour out of the structure. They had very ancient weapons, swords, spears even. Then even some could notice strange beasts also following the men; as if they were animals in human form. Everybody froze as they tried to process what just happened.

"AAARGHHHHH"

The screams were deafening as the whoosh of hundreds of arrows streaking through the air filled the skies.

* * *

 **Same time  
Sagami Bay**

The waves gently lapped off the grey steel hull of the USS _Ronald Reagan_. That is until they were disturbed by the roar of a F/A-18E Super Hornet catapulting off the forward deck of the carrier, soaring into the air like a rocket taking flight.

"Woooooh yeah!" exclaimed Captain Rourke as he gripped his flight stick and pulled back, his left hand rested on the throttle which was engaged on the afterburners.

"Viper 1, Viper 2 you've been cleared by JSDF ATC to engage in manoeuvres. Proceed to sector Lima Tango 55, over,"

"Copy that, proceeding to sector Lima Tango 55,"

The two F/A-18s zoomed into the sky above the waters of Tokyo their engines screaming as heated flames erupted from their tails.

They had clocked just 5 minutes on their flight timers when Rourke glanced off to his right side. He then disbelieved his own eyes.

"Uh Viper 2, this Viper 1, I'm seeing smoke over Tokyo,"

"Oh shit I see it too Viper 1. What the hell is going on?"

"Tower this Viper 1, we're seeing plumes of smoke rising from downtown Tokyo, request divert to check it out over,"

The radio sat silent for a few seconds before the tower controller replied in a rather rapid tone. "Request granted, limit time to max 5 mikes, out,"

"Viper 2 we got the go-ahead to check it out,"

The two Hornets then banked sharply to the right, darting towards the towering smoke plumes that rivalled the height of skyscrapers.

* * *

The bridge of the _Ronald Reagan_ was an extremely busy place. Dozens of crewmen sat at their stations monitoring all the necessary tools to maintain the high-octane environment that was a supercarrier.

A young radar operator sat at his station and carefully monitored the air traffic radar, guiding planes safely past each other and to and from the carrier. It was then he noticed something strange occurring.

"Uh, Chief, I'm getting some weird interference on the scope. Radar picture is fuzzing out,"

The senior crewmember strode over to take a close look as they both looked puzzled at what was going on.

* * *

Rourke was now cruising gently at over 350 knots over Tokyo and he couldn't believe what he was seeing through the camera of his targeting pod.

"Hey Viper 2 you seeing this? I've got dudes with swords chasing civilians on the scope. Jesus it's a fucking warzone down there,"

"Yeah I'm seeing it too, what the hell is-"

He was cut off by a dark shadow that swooped over the canopy of his aircraft.

"Shit we've got a bogie!"

Both pilots slammed their throttles into full afterburner as they performed evasive manoeuvres. Whatever that buzzed them didn't seem to follow or simply wasn't able to.

"Tower this Viper 1 it's a bloody warzone down there! We've got an unknown bogie in the sky as well!"

"Uh Viper 1 repeat your last,"

"Medieval soldiers are slaughtering civvies! Probable hostile in the air! Permission to engage?"

"Uh, wait one," the ATC controller said nervously

"Viper 1 you are-" the controller's voice fizzled out as Rourke looked up to see a wave of blue energy pulsate out from the water.

"What the fuck was that? Shit, I've lost radio comms with tower. You see that blue shit out on the water?" Rourke shouted over the radio.

"Yeah I saw it, what the hell should we do?"

Rourke sweated furiously as his pulse rate doubled. He looked out to then see a strange structure forming out in the water.

"Okay, let's return to the carrier."

"Copy that, wait, that thing, its back!"

Viper 2's pilot looked over to his right to see a black scaled beast flapping straight towards them.

"It's a fucking dragon! Oh shit incoming!" Viper 2's pilot screamed as he realised a man was riding the dragon and several projectile shaped objects were screaming towards them. Immediately yanking the stick, his F/A-18 screeched as he banked to right.

"Viper 2, open up the throttles! I'm engaging!" Rourke commanded as he flew his jet onto the six of the dragon, its speed easily catching up.

Flicking the safeties off his weaponry, Rourke realised that his heatseekers weren't detecting anything. Quickly remedying this, he locked on with an AIM-120 and pressed the button.

"Fox 3!"

* * *

The entire bridge of the _Ronald Reagan_ was thrown into disarray as the pulse of blue energy enveloped the entirety of the ship and then battlegroup.

"What the hell was that?" the captain shouted as he grabbed a pair of binoculars to see seemingly hundreds of wooden vessels emerging out of swirling portal that was entrapped by a colossal marble gate.

"Sir, there's a ship wide power-failure. Electronics non-responsive! We're dead in the water."

Generalised confusion set in throughout as people scrambled to get a grip onto the situation at hand and restore power to the ship.

"That must have been an EMP sir! No other way we could've been knocked out like this,"

Before the captain could turn around to reply, the familiar scream of two jets rang overhead.

* * *

Captain Rourke's brain was now in overdrive as he took at the seas below him. First medieval soldiers rampaging through Tokyo, then blowing a dragon out of the sky clean with a guided missile and now _this_?

"Viper 2 you seeing this? Looks like wooden ships! Hundreds of 'em!"

"What's our fleet doing? They ain't responding."

Rourke looked over to note that several navigational radars stopped turning and no fumes were being emitted from the smoke stacks of vessels. He knew very well what had happened and his hand immediately reached to dial his radio to the frequency of Yokosuka.

* * *

Itami and the rest of his group panted as they raced behind the SEALS through the tight bulkheads of the ship. It felt like forever until they entered the open and wide space that was the bridge of the _McCampbell_. Sat in his CO's chair, Cromwell was diligently listening into the radio as he stared at a television screen which was patched into newsfeed of the unbelievable.

It was a tense few minutes as everybody became briefed on what was going on.

"Sir! This ship is not seaworthy at all! If you don't remember, there is a 20 foot hole in the hull!" objected Sampson as he shook his head.

"Our ships are stuck out there. No power. No weapons. We're the closest combat-capable ship to them. We need to help them, now that is an order!"

Sampson sighed and conceded. Cromwell smiled slightly as he turned around to face the windows.

"Call general quarters."

* * *

The ride out of Yokosuka was quite the nerve-racking one. The ship shuddered with every wave as water gushed ever so slightly into the forward bow compartment. Even with the full deployment of all water tight bulkheads sealing off the front section, nobody felt easy taking a damaged warship out to sea, nonetheless to do battle.

But they didn't have any other choice; the F/A-18 pilot's testimony was more than enough. The entire Reagan battlegroup along with several Japanese naval ships was stuck dead in the water against hundreds of enemy warships. Apparently of wooden construction, but that was irrelevant. Their comrades were in danger and their safety was their number one priority.

 _Plus, it was better than a court-martial._

"CIC, what's our weapons load and status?"

"Bridge, we've got a full magazine of 5 inch shells ready to roll. Full torpedo complement as well. CIWS is online. Bushmasters are also good to go. However only the forward VLS is active,"

Cromwell furrowed his brows. While he had plenty of ammunition in the main gun, he had only 32 missiles to play with and only 10 of them were of the SM-6 his only really useful anti-ship missile. He prayed to god whatever the hell came and fucked up the battlegroup wasn't disguising some kind of alien tech in a Roman-style war boat.

"Sir! I have the enemy on radar. Christ, there's hundreds of them!"

Cromwell rushed over to the radar station and saw a multitude of blips lighting up the radar display like a Christmas tree.

"Alright this it. CIC, arm two SM-6s and target the leading formation. On my mark…FIRE!"

Within the second, two hatches on the front deck of the _McCampbell_ flew open, releasing a stream of fire to reveal two elongated white tubes that screamed out of their vertical launch bays.

* * *

Mudra smiled as he saw the grand fleet before him. Despite the enemy's impressively sized warships, there was no way that anything could match the invincible numbers and formations of the Imperial Expeditionary Fleet. Besides, the puny fleet of grey ships hadn't even made any attempt to bring forward to ramming speed. No doubt their numbers had already terrified them into submission.

Laughing as he gazed out into the horizon, he saw two strange white trails that came out of a smaller grey ship, quite a distance away. Puzzled he leaned in to take a closer look. It appeared that leading the white trails were two white small objects and they seemed to be getting rather close to the fleet. His jaw slackened as he realised the two objects were about slam straight into the quinquereme in front of him. What he didn't expect was the massive flash of white light and gust of wind that erupted in front of his very eyes, blowing him straight off his feet.

* * *

"Bridge, this is CIC, reporting two confirmed hits,"

Cromwell smiled as he looked out in the distance with his binoculars. Both of the SM-6s had precisely impacted upon the enemy formation and had dealt quite the explosive spectacle. Now knowing the enemy was indeed susceptible to high explosive firepower, Cromwell immediately snatched the intercom.

"Okay boys its time to kick ass. Gunnery, open up on the enemy with the five inch and launch another salvo of SM-6s. Get that starboard Bushmaster ready to go! Get six fish in the water! I want all crew-serve weapons on the starboard side! Open fire on my mark!"

The _McCampbell_ cruised to the left of the stricken battle group, it's sleek yet damaged hull cutting through the waves with ease as they passed on by the _Ronald Reagan._ It seemed that some power was getting back online as crew members rushed around the flight deck tending to aircraft on the deck. Good thing the supercarriers were designed to be hardened against EMP strikes, so while the ship was hurt, it was far from out of the fight. The _McCampbell_ would just have to pick up the slack for now and hold the enemy off long enough for the rest of the fleet to get back online.

Upon Cromwell's orders, the 5 inch gun immediately whirred to life and spun to start tracking the enemy fleet. Crew rushed to the starboard deck as they manned M2 Browning's and M240 machine guns, pointing their angry barrels straight at the enemy. The aft torpedo tubes, primarily used to hunt submarines now readied themselves to snare easier prey as a Mk38 Mod 2 began locking onto the enemy. It was as if a New Year's Firework show was about to kick off and the clock only needed to hit 12.

 _And Cromwell was that clock._

"Light 'em up."

The entirety of the _McCampbell_ erupted into smoke and flame as all hell descended upon the poor souls that occupied the enemy fleet. The 5 inch gun roared as it let loose a shell onto the enemy, blasting apart their wooden hulls like tissue paper. The Mk38 blasted dozens of 25 mm shells down range, blasting gaping holes into anything in its path. Bullets whizzed into the chaos from machine gunners as the aft torpedo tubes released their deadly packages into the water, leaving behind rapid trails as the torpedoes raced towards their targets.

The blast of another 5 inch shell ripping apart a ship clean was further deafened by a further two massive explosions that rocked apart the entire centre of the enemy fleet. Two more SM-6s striking their targets was doing wonders for the enemy fleet's tight formation. Fires raged all over their ships as anything and everything was pulverised and then vaporised by the nonending fire erupting from the _McCampbell_ like a volcano of death and destruction.

* * *

"WHAT…WHAT IS THIS SORCERY?" Mudra shouted in terror as he tried to climb back onto his feet after the vessel in front of him burst into terrible shreds of wood in an instant from the impact of those two objects. Now one of the enemy warships was letting loose a hail of magics that would have torn even the heavens asunder. The entire Imperial fleet was being torn apart in front of his eyes by one single ship. Their vessels could not even move for countless wreckages blocked their path. Not even their most powerful ballistae could hope to match the enemy. Mudra could not suspend his disbelief to what was happening around him as fires danced through the hundreds of ships and hundreds of wrecks that littered the sea.

By some miracle the _Emroy's Trident_ was still untouched by the enemy's unholy witchcraft.

Well, _was._

Mudra was once again tossed from his feet as his entire ship erupted into pieces. The centre mast shrieked as wood fibres shattered, causing the entire structure to come tumbling down. All pandemonium broke loose as the ship split in two. Mudra held on for dear life as his beloved warship splattered and broke into pieces.

"By Emroy, SAVE MY SOUL!"

 **Note: slight edits were made to make it better known that the CVBG was not completely neutralised by the EMP. Down, but not out.**


	5. Chapter 4: Hell Hath No Fury

**Whoo, jeez this one took quite the while to pump out! Sorry about that guys but since school is back on, I've got to juggle schoolwork into the mix and its pretty hard to find time to write these. I'll try my best to deliver them to you as fast as possible but please bear with me if it takes like a month. Again, thanks for all the support!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4: HELL HATH NO FURY**

* * *

 **1030 Hours (Incident + 0030 Hours)  
9** **th** **August 2018  
Ginza**

"This is Ginza Police Box! They're everywhere!" a panicked man screamed over the radio, followed shortly by the rapid cracks of gunfire and painful shouts of terror and anguish. The police radio operator on the receiving end assumed the worst.

Within the span of 30 minutes, Ginza had turned from an uptown shopping district to a battered warzone. Thousands of medieval soldiers complete with strange demi human warriors had now completely overrun the streets surrounding the monolithic structure that had appeared in the middle of Tokyo. Corpses of slaughtered people littered the streets as crashed cars were piled in the middle of roads. Smoke and fire billowed out from buildings and burning vehicles as trapped civilians cowered in whatever hiding places they could. Some desperately ran for the safety of nearby police officers and installations but they could do little to hold the attackers at bay with their puny .38 Special revolvers. Many uniformed men and women were found in no better shape than their civilian compatriots.

Herm trotted along with his horse as he surveyed what seemed to be glorious new claims of land for the Empire. His neck craned up to see the massive buildings that towered above him, something he had never seen in his life.

"These buildings, so tall and out of a strange material. This must be their capital," commented Calasta.

"Heh, for a capital it is rather poorly defended. Just a couple of unarmoured soldiers with small bolt throwers. I had hoped this would be a challenging fight hah!" chuckled Herm as he glanced back to see newly captured citizens of this nation chained up in a line.

 _Fine additions to the slave dungeons._

* * *

 **Same time  
Sagami Bay**

Things had been going less smoothly for the Empire's naval forces however. Never before in the grand history of their navy had they suffered such loss. From a single ship nonetheless.

"What the hell is going on?" Praetor Clarvarius clutched his head in fury as he raised his voice in contempt.

"Sir, that ship…that thing…it's decimating our vessels!" the centurion nervously replied as he quickly looked back towards the carnage.

"I BLOODY WELL KNOW THAT YOU IMBECILE! WHY THE HELL AREN'T OUR SHIPS DOING ANYTHING?" he screamed back as he gripped his head in despair. His eyes widened at the sight of dozens of wooden wrecks bobbing in front of his eyes. He didn't even blink when the proud ship of Praetor Mudra erupted into splinters in front of his very eyes.

* * *

"Bridge this is CIC, confirmed hits with all six fish,"

Cromwell smiled as he looked out the bridge windows with a pair of binoculars. Within the span of only 5 minutes the _McCampbell_ had reduced dozens of the enemy's fleet to wrecks. However, there were still hundreds of the enemy still combat capable and even the ever-daring Cromwell began to worry about how many munitions he had expended towards the enemy. What the media would soon call the largest naval battle since the Second World War was far from over.

* * *

"Jesus what the hell does he think he's doing?" the captain of the _Ronal Reagan_ muttered as he observed the carnage happening just a few miles in front of his stricken battlegroup. He slammed his fist onto the table as he sighed in annoyance. Whatever that had struck the CVBG, it certainly was just a bit too much for the EMP-hardening to take. Thankfully the reactors were still functioning; their tough lead shielding able to handle both radiation and absurd bursts of electromagnetic energy. The more delicate components such as the exposed radars and antennae were taking some time to repair.

As the captain sat back into his CO's chair, a man rushed up into the bridge, visibly sweating and panting as if he had just ran a marathon.

"Sir! The shooter says he's got the catapults back online!"

A grin immediately sprang across the captain's face.

"About damn time! Tell the ACHO to get of his ass and prep the planes to launch! I want every plane on this ship, in the air!"

Within the minute the entire ship fluttered about in a whirl of rejuvenated activity. F/A-18s were being wheeled around the deck to preparatory positions as hundreds of people rushed around to prepare them for launch. Purple shirts darted around, hoisting fuel hoses and pumping fuel to feed thirsty turbofans while redshirts carefully wheeled around and mounted thousands of pounds of deadly ordinance onto their aircraft, sharpening the teeth of death's maw.

It wasn't long before one of the catapult officers arched forward and stretched out his arm and hand in the shape of a pistol. The deafening thunder of a Super Hornet bolting down the forward deck silenced all other noise as an E-2 Hawkeye followed suit.

* * *

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR. SEND THEM OUT!" screamed Clarvarius as he gripped the wooden railing of his ship tightly. It seemed that one of the larger grey ships in the distance had launched several strange looking metal birds into the air, not too different from the ones that were loitering above them as the battle had unfolded. He would now give them the match they deserved as the roar of several dragons broke loose from the Imperial fleet. Clarvarius smiled as he unleashed his hidden card. No doubt victory would be snatched from the jaws of defeat.

The dragons rose straight from holding cells in the bowels of several warships, floating for a few seconds to allow their riders to gain bearings of their surroundings. They saw the enemy immediately and with the crack of reins, they flew straight towards the lone grey ship still pounding their fleet with vile magics.

* * *

"Sir! CIC reports SPY radar picking up 10 plus airborne contacts, no IFF identification. Range, 2 miles and closing fast!"

"Look!" A lookout shouted as he pointed towards several large dark winged figures arising from the smoke that had permeated the enemy fleet's ruins.

Cromwell took a close look with his binoculars and knew exactly what he was looking at.

"They're dragons! CIC, classify as enemy airborne! Get a firing solution with the ESSMs!"

"Locked on target!"

"Fire!" shouted Cromwell as he quickly reacquired the airborne beasts with his binos. He knew that he didn't have enough missiles to take each one down. He also noted the strange sac-like protrusions from the wings of the dragons, as if they were carrying something inside them. Truly a fearsome sight, were not for the USS _McCampbell_ being a beast herself. A beast wrought from iron and furnished in _death_.

Immediately a missile sprang out from the forward VLS tube and darted straight towards one of the dragons. It seemed to be confused as its brain failed to fathom the grey object rapidly speeding towards itself. Woe to its rider as it was promptly ripped apart upon contact with the warhead. Once again another missile shot out of the same VLS tube as the first, owing to that ESSMs were able to be quad packed in one single VLS tube. The target of the second missile seemed to be more aware of the consequences of the incoming projectile after seeing his friend disintegrate before his eyes. Desperately tugging on the reins to perform evasive action against the missile, his eyes could only sink in languish as even his best efforts paled in comparison to the sheer agility of the Sea Sparrow, whose mobility was designed against supersonic manoeuvring targets massively overkill against a slow-moving reptile. However, despite a third missile launch that brought down another flying abomination, the dragons numbered too much and they had closed within 1 mile of the ship.

"Sir they're too close. We can't guarantee a hit!"

"Damn, switch to airburst on the 5 inch! Helmsman, turn heading 220 and increase to flank speed! Get it within the Phalanx's cone of fire!"

The entire ship shuddered as the 9000 ton vessel banked to the left, quickly picking up to its top speed of over 30 knots. The inner mechanics of the 5 inch gun whirred as it switched ammunition to proximity fusing shells and swivelled itself to engage the enemy. A burst of flame ignited from the barrel as a shell was sent towards the aerial formation, shredding a dragon in a whirlwind of explosive shrapnel.

Those still left flying; their riders were galvanised with the urge to avenge their fallen comrades from this devastating steel monster in front of them. So, they halted their steeds in mid air as they commanded them to unleash their weapons against the enemy. Suddenly, the sacs under the beasts erupted to reveal spluttering balls of a strange green liquid surrounding a dense solid grey core that accelerated towards the still turning _McCampbell_.

Red flashes littered the CIC and bridge as someone shouted over the intercom, "Multiple unknown inbound! Vampire, vampire, vampire, killing with CIWS!"

The aft Phalanx CIWS immediately whirred to life as its barrels spooled in preparation. Within microseconds it had acquired the incoming projectiles headed for the ship and began to unleash a hail of 20 mm shells against them. Hundreds of depleted uranium sabots littered the skies, shredding the scores of the strange projectile weaponry that had targeted the ship. However a single trajectile had managed to slip past the wall of lead and it headed straight towards the bridge of the _McCampbell._

"Oh shit! Everyone clear the bridge! CLEAR THE BRIDGE!" shouted Cromwell as he threw down his binos and motioned furiously for everyone to get out of the soon to be impact zone.

* * *

Itami and his squad ducked for cover as it slammed into the front of the ship, bursting open into splatters of a noxious green liquid, shattering glass and bending steel. Itami looked up to see Kimberly standing above him, hand outstretched. Taking it gladly, Itami righted himself and quickly secured his weapon as the rest of his teammates got back on their feet. The soldiers had been furiously dumping magazine after magazine of small arms fire into the enemy fleet ever since they charged at the leviathan of warships. Jones had even managed to go through five magazines of .50 BMG, forcing him to 'borrow' some from one of the M2 gunners. Needless to say they weren't too pleased to be interrupted in unleashing lead down range by the airborne assault that befell their warship.

"What the hell was that?" shouted Itami over the chaos and confusion as smoke and dust wavered through the stiff sea air.

"No fucking clue! Fuck that was the bridge wasn't it? Let's go check it out! Guys might be hurt!"

"Lead the way!"

Quickly holstering their arms, Itami's squad hurried after the SEALs and arrived at a scene of utter carnage.

The bridge was in tatters as a large chunk of the right section of the bridge was missing. Hissing and smoke permeated the atmosphere as traces of green liquid gnawed at the exposed metal and wiring. Nearly every pane of glass was left shattered while monitors and consoles spat out electric sparks from their battered panels. Miraculously, no one was seriously wounded. Itami was the first to see the bloodied face of Cromwell as he regained his senses, rising from the ragged floor, being helped by the reluctant Japanese officer. The rest of the soldiers rushed to rescue sailors trapped under debris and tend to wounded personnel, cut by shrapnel and glass.

Noting the intercom phone was still intact, Cromwell clasped it firmly. "CIC continue fire! We're blind up here!"

"Helmsman get back on the helm! Anyone too hurt to fight; get them to sick bay!" Cromwell barked as he swept broken glass of his binoculars and focused them back onto the still flying dragons lingering in front of his ship.

Within the blink of an eye, two of the flying creatures exploded into fiery balls of vaporised flesh as their compatriots swerved away in terror. Cromwell was confused, his ship hadn't fired a single shot at them.

A crackle came over the radio, "Ease up _McCampbell_ , we got your back! Viper 1 engaging!"

The deafening roar of jet engines dampened the sky as two familiar silhouettes raced overhead, making a low pass over the ship. A cheer rang out from the battered ship as the cavalry had come.

Dozens of aircraft swept over the sky, their black silhouettes invigorating panic and hysteria amongst the foe. Death had come for their souls and he rode on a chariot pulled by black wyverns.

" _McCampbell_ this is Thunderstorm 1 we'll take it from here! Thanks for holding them off!" a pilot buzzed over the radio.

"No worries Thunderstorm 1, give them hell!" Cromwell smiled.

The lead attack formation was comprised of six Super Hornets, armed to the teeth with a full payload of JDAMs and Harpoon anti-ship missiles. They were flanked by two groups of 3 escort Hornets each, trailing behind to ward off any foolish enough to dare approach.

"I have a lock! Harpoon away!" announced a pilot over the radio to his formation.

Soon a multitude of white streaks leapt through the air as the missiles darted towards their targets. Wood and canvas erupted were vaporised in an instant as the Harpoons struck their targets. Then a second series of explosions ripped torn asunder the Imperial ships as a second pass of the Hornets soared overhead, their weapons pylons devoid of the JDAMs they had unleashed upon their foe.

* * *

 **USS** _ **Ronald Reagan**_

"Captain, strike squadron 1 report they are out of ordnance," a sailor reported as the captain stood still, his vision affixed to the battle occurring.

Then, all of a sudden, the radio came abuzz with life, " _Ronald Reagan_ this is _Kirishima_ we have restored power to all systems and are ready to engage!"

Within moments, message after message of confirmation of power restoration pelted the radios of the aircraft carrier. The captain stood firm and simply smiled as another set of Super Hornets catapulted off the forward deck.

"Fire!" he shouted into the receiver.

* * *

Mudra gasped for air as he clawed at flotsam bobbing in the cool waters of this foreign land. Coughing water out of his lungs, he desperately clung onto the debris of his destroyed ship. Wiping the salty water from his face, he could not believe what his eyes were telling him. All around him the entire Imperial fleet was in tatters as naught but hundreds of warships lay ruined and wrecked. Fires licked the water as even the finest of war boats collapsed into hellish infernos of death brought upon by the fearsome and devilish enemy with their bolts of foul magic.

"By Emroy! What have we done to deserve this?" he vainly shouted as the mast of a stricken vessel became toppled and undone, crashing into the water.

Staring into the distance, Mudra reigned his head in horror as the distant grey ships began to unleash the same strange fiery magic that the nearby grey ship was pelting them with. Dozens of fiery rods flung into the sky, carrying with them the wrath of the gods and it all cascaded upon the devastated fleet of the Empire.

* * *

The scene was breathtaking; within mere seconds of each other, dozens of missiles had erupted from the escorts of the _Ronald Reagan_. SM-6s soared high from the seven Arleigh Burkes of Destroyer Squadron 15 as Harpoons blasted out of their armoured canisters on the two present Japanese Maritime Self Defence Force destroyers, _Kirishima_ and _Hatakaze._ Soon followed the tremendous barrage of 5-inch gun fire from each destroyer, their shells whistling through the air with tremendous speed as they met their targets, ripping apart wood like tissue paper.

The comm net was ablaze with quickly chirped orders and reports.

" _Curtis Wilbur_ target grid sector 5-5 Lima with SM-6s!"

" _Hatakaze_ reporting all hits with Harpoons!"

"Viper 4 engaging bogey! Fox 3!"

" _Barry,_ engage with the 5 inch on the right flank at sector 2-1 Kilo!"

"Stormwind 1 JDAMs released, RTB!"

Within minutes, the wrath of Carrier Strike Group 5 had reduced the entire enemy fleet to a watery mass grave. Cromwell chuckled as he observed the tatters of the enemy through his binoculars. Hundreds of ships all strewn in pieces in front of his eyes; the scene rather amused him as he recollected everything that had happen that morning.

 _Who the hell had invaded Tokyo?_

"All ships, cease fire!" someone barked over the radio. "It appears the enemy has been totally destroyed,"

Itami, who was tending to a wounded sailor looked up to see Cromwell talking to a sailor who looked like he had just run a marathon.

"My team? Now?"

"Yeah sir, it's from the embassy,"

"Shit, alright. Tell the hangar guys to prep the Seahawk,"

Cromwell walked over to Kimberly and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Kimberly, get yourself and your squad ready to deploy on the Seahawk within 5 minutes,"

"Shit, new mission? Mind briefing me on it?"

"I'll do it on the way, hurry up, get your ass to the hangar,"

Kimberly spoke up, "Sir, permission to take the Japanese with us?"

Cromwell hesitated for a moment, "Fine, but if anything happens, it's on you,"

* * *

 **American Embassy  
Tokyo**

Despite the battle being essentially won on the sea, all hell was still breaking loose in Tokyo. The streets were ablaze with fire and explosions as the Imperial Forces pressed on their invasion into Tokyo, unaware of the total destruction of the Imperial Fleet. However, their forces had met their first real worthy adversary when they arrived at the doorstep at the American Embassy in Tokyo.

"This is the American Embassy! We're surrounded by enemy forces! Request immediate reinforcements!" a Marine shouted over the radio as his comrade sprayed bursts from a M249 as the explosions of grenades kicked up whirls of dust.

Tracers of bullets dazzled the incoming footmen as their tough wooden shields could do nothing to protect themselves against the hail of hot lead that was pouring from the makeshift defensible positions.

"Negative, negative! Hold your position! All available forces are engaged with the enemy!"

Suddenly, another voice came over the comm net, "This is Sealion 1-1, hold on! We're on the way to evac you out! ETA 5 mikes!"

Itami held on to his helmet as the Seahawk zoomed over the wartorn streets of Tokyo. When Kimberly offered him the opportunity to join him on this mission to evacuate the American Embassy, only the nagging of the rest of his squad and his sense of duty to his home swayed him. Gulping his fear down his throat, he reaffirmed himself with his duty as a soldier and observed the battle ongoing. Just below their helicopter flew two AH-1Zs, no doubt belonging to the United States Marine Corps. Their chin mounted guns spat out death against an enemy formation below who clearly never had seen such power and destruction.

Several Japanese Type 90 and Type 10 main battle tanks razed an entire enemy company as a Marine M1A1 Abrams charged down a road, machine guns blazing, cutting down dozens of knights and footmen alike. The roar of jets buzzing past was muted by the explosion of their deathly ordnance pummelling an entire battalion of the foe, reducing them to ash.

"Don't worry Itami, we'll send 'em back to whatever hole they crawled out of!" shouted Jones.

"We've managed to take back everything past the Sumida river and we've set up a defensive line around the Imperial Palace! Currently the Marines are giving them hell along with your guys!"

Itami nodded and continued to look down into the carnage. Nearly every road was choked with friendly forces pouring into Tokyo. Suddenly, a deafening roar came from above as a yellow streak smashed into a building, creating a massive explosion. Itami peered out of the helicopter to be greeted by the sight of an AC-130 gunship raining down hell into Ginza.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Kuribayashi.

"A beauty isn't it?" laughed Parkes as he rested a hand on his M249.

The 25 mm rotary cannon on AC-130 churned out shots, splattering the ground as the 40 mm Bofors slammed high explosive at any enemy within sight of its FLIR eyes.

"We're just 1 mike out of the LZ!" said the chopper pilot over the intercom.

"Roger, take us down on near the building opposite the embassy. Give us some covering fire alright?" Kimberly replied.

"Sure thing!" grinned the door gunner.

Inching out of the exposed passenger compartment of the helicopter, Itami could see an intense battle going on.

Tuning his radio, Itami could hear various things being flung around the comm net as the Battle of Tokyo progressed steadily.

"Keep firing the 240 Bravos! Get more men down behind the building!"

"Yeah yeah right there! Hit that bastard where it hurts! Fire!"

"Gonna need a HEAT round through that fucker!"

"Tanku no ushiro ni iru!"

"Bombs away, I repeat bombs away!"

"No you are not authorised to release ordnance under any means past half a klick from Ginza! We cannot risk collateral!"

"Request immediate gunship support! Sector Charlie Tango 5-2-6!"

Grimacing at the influx of chatter, he quickly switched the radio to a silent channel.

The helicopter's motion began to slow as it approached the landing site. Immediately the door gunner began to unload bullets into the hordes of enemies marked by purple smoke. The embassy lay directly ahead, its white exterior stained with dust and soot from fires blazing all around. Dozens of warriors clad in metal plates and chainmail charged from the road beside the embassy, only to be cut down by the marines just out of their reach.

The wheels of the helicopter gently rested on the ground and the soldiers jumped out in unison, guns raised and ready. Jones immediately unfurled his M107 and climbed on top of a nearby rooftop. Deploying his bipod, he began to provide overwatch for the rest of his team.

"Alright guys this is it! Follow me and try not to get killed!" Kimberly shouted as ran forward, beckoning the rest to follow.

Immediately the squad came under assault by a group of knights that had tried to flank the defenders. They raised their swords and began to charge themselves straight into a flurry of precise fire from Kimberly's HK416.

"Contact left!" shouted Parkes, firing off a few rounds in the direction of a couple of archers that had taken position on the rooftop of a security checkpoint.

Itami shifted quickly to engage this new threat, his Type 89 rattling as he dodged an arrow and dived for cover. He immediately sent out return fire, nailing one as Kuribayashi sent another one tumbling to his death. The thunderous boom of a calibre fifty was shortly followed by a bloody explosion of mist and gore, chronicling the end of the last archer.

"Good fucking shot!" shouted Parkes over the radio.

"Just twenty more metres!" Kimberly shouted as he led the squad down an alley, firing rounds off in the direction of the main enemy force.

"There! The marines!" Parkes announced.

A steady stream of bullets flew out of the marine's M249 as another crouched to reload. He was just about to curse how he had expended his last magazine when a STANAG flew right to his feet. Looking up he saw a squad of both American and Japanese troops darting across to them.

"About time you guys got here!" shouted the marine as he inserted the magazine into his M16's receiver.

"Where are the VIPs? Are they secure?"

"Yeah they're holed up inside! I'll call 'em out!" the marine replied as he grabbed his chest radio.

Soon a couple of men and women dressed in business attire hurriedly ran over to the group of soldiers, hands shielding their heads.

Itami looked up and immediately he recognised one of them.

"Tarō?" Itami asked as the man looked up.

"Itami!"

"Shit Tarō! What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same! I was supposed to be discussing the ongoing exercises but as you can see, everything went downhill!" Tarō replied.

"Guys this might not be the best of times for a family reunion!" Parkes shouted as he unleashed suppressing fire against the still feverous hordes of sword bound warriors running at them, hot lead slicing through leather and flesh alike.

"Noted! Shit, incoming from the left side!" Itami shouted as he quickly moved the Minister for Defence behind a pile of sandbags as he let loose several rounds from his Type 89.

"They don't stop coming!" yelled one of the marines as he ducked to reload.

"Shit at this rate they'll cut off our exfil! We gotta do something fast!" Parkes replied, filling the overcoming hordes of enemy with 5.56 mm NATO rounds.

Itami furrowed his brows as he inserted a new magazine suddenly remembered the AC-130 overhead, and rushed over to Kimberly, who was depressing the trigger on his HK with pinpoint precision.

"Kimberly! I have an idea!"

"A good fucking time to have one Itami!"

"You got a smoke?"

"You referring to a pack or a 'nade? Because we ain't got time for the former!"

"Smoke grenade! Throw it out and I'll escort the VIPs to the chopper! We can then get your gunship to hit the smoke!"

Crouching to reload, Kimberly thought for it for a split-second and made his decision just as quickly, an outcome of his special forces training.

"Sounds doable! Alright, inform the others, get fucking ready!"

Itami, ran to the other soldiers and the VIPs, quickly briefing them on what to do as Kimberly pulled out a smoke grenade from his chest carrier, index finger looping the pin as he looked over to Itami.

Itami nodded and out flew a M18 smoke grenade, bouncing off the shattered asphalt of the ground before finally coming to rest, and out came spewing thick and dense green smoke, directly within the enemy's ranks. The warriors became confused, their eyes never seeing such vivid colour in a fume of smoke.

At the same time, Itami, rifle in hand, ushered for all the VIPs to make a run for it. The clattering of shoes hitting the pavement was muffled by suppressing fire from the rest of the soldiers, churning rounds into the midst of the smoke.

"Warhammer 1, this is Sealion 1-1 we need immediate fire support mission on grid sector 2-1 Tango Mike marked with the green smoke!"

"Uh, confirm Sealion 1-1, that's gonna be danger close,"

"Confirm danger close Warhammer! Give 'em everything you've got!"

"Roger that, fire support inbound, danger close!"

Within a few seconds, a massive explosion erupted from the centre of the green smoke, vaporising dozens of unknowing warriors and beastmen.

"Good initial hit! Fire for effect!" shouted Kimberly over the radio, as he took cover.

Explosions began pounding the entire street ahead of them from the 40 mm rounds being blast out of the gunship's autocannon as 25 mm shells laced the ground, cutting footmen into meaty chunks. Shell after shell struck, shaking the earth with might rumbling, blowing ash and dust onto the uniforms of the soldiers.

"1-1 we are bingo fuel, gotta pull out, friendly units are one the way, over,"

"Copy that Warhammer, thanks for the assist!"

Black smoke and dust wisped through the air as the bombardment finally stopped. A crackle over the radio, brought relief over the minds of everyone.

"Itami here! VIPs are safe onboard! Making my way back here now with Jones, over!"

"Roger that. Friendly units are on the way to our position!"

Kimberly aimed down the ACOG of his HK416 and checked the street ( _or what was left of it)_ for any survivors of the fire mission. Satisfied there were none, he turned to his left to see Jones and Itami running back down from the LZ, and skid to cover next to him.

"Welcome back gentlemen,"

"Heh," scoffed Jones as he checked the magazine of his M107.

"So what next?"

"Well, we're going to link up with the rest of our forces and push those fuckers back through the gate."

 **Near Ginza**

* * *

"Run! Run!" screamed a footman as he fell down into the ground, blood pooling from a small hole in his back.

The Empire had made a mistake. A very costly mistake. Calasta cowered in fear as the enemy's magics tore their best warriors and fiercest beasts apart. They came announced by the whirlwind of metallic pegasi and lightning fire that tore apart the heavens. Now giant metal beasts with hides thick as a castle wall were rolling over their lines.

"Damn it! Damn it! Hold your formation!" shouted Calasta as he waved his sword like a mad man.

Despite spilling plenty of blood when he had emerged from the gate, the sword had long dried since its last victim as what Calasta could only assume where the mages of this strange nation laid waste to the Empire's mighty army. Mages that defied all comprehension and could destroy even the heavens with their unholy magics.

"By Emroy! Save us!" cried a knight as he was pelted by invisible arrows, blood spewing out of open chinks in his armour.

Subordinate footmen under his command cowered in terror, only to be blown away by a cloud of smoke and fire. Struggling to see the aftermath, Calasta quickly looked away as amputated limbs and chunks of flesh were all that remained.

* * *

"Good throw Itami! At least 3 KIAs!" Kimberly acknowledged over the radio as he took aim with his HK416, gunning down a straggler from the grenade's impact.

"Thanks, I-I think I'm getting better at this!" Itami nervously replied, never having seen such brutal gore in his life.

His trembling thoughts were quickly blasted away when an Abrams let loose a HEAT round from its 120 mm smoothbore, rumbling the very earth with its recoil. Looking up to see the results, Itami almost puked from the carnage of bodies it left behind.

 _A grenade wasn't so bad after all eh?_

"Alright street's clear! Let's move up guys! We're only a quarter klick from the origin point, and just a little more to go till the standby point; just past the intersection in front of us!" commanded the marine captain in his command tank.

The SEALs moved up, leading marines behind them to advance down the ravaged street. The roar of a helicopter gunship's blades permeated the air as it rained down a hail of 20 mm shells on whatever foe dared enter its line of sight. Itami ordered his Japanese compatriots to follow, with Kuribayashi eagerly charging down the street, running right past Itami and straight next to the Americans.

"Calm down there Kuribayashi! Don't get yourself in a stupid situation! There are enemies still here!" Itami berated in Japanese.

"Pfft you're such a pussy sir! There aren't-," Kuribayashi's counter argument was promptly cut off by gun fire and a scream.

"Fuck! Contact front! Archers! Shit we've got a man down!" a marine shouted over the radio.

"Jesus they're everywhere! Wait, I can see the gate! It's about 200 metres in front!"

"Stop taking a scenic tour and shoot the motherfuckers marine!" shouted someone who distinctly sounded like Jones.

"Yessir!"

"Hold on boy's, fall back! Let the armour take 'em!" replied the tank captain, as he buttoned up his tank hatch and ordered his driver to step on the gas.

The whirring whistle of the revving gas turbine caused Itami to grimace, readying for another bout of destruction.

The marines and the SEALs, along with a rather disgruntled Kuribayashi ran back, as two marines supported a wounded one, with a long arrow sticking out of his left shoulder. The combat capable troops stopped and took cover behind some ruined rubble and began to open up suppressing fire against the bunkered down foe. The boom of the tank's 120 mm caused the ground to shake as the face of some department store collapsed into a pile of concrete and dust.

"No fair! I wanted to give it to them!" Kuribayashi shouted in protest.

Itami quickly ran up to Kimberly, signing for his squad to follow and asked for an update to the situation.

"Okay Itami, we've got their entry point in sight. It's a fucking huge gate of some sort. Problem is that they've everything of what's _left_ of their army defending it,"

"So, what about our forces?"

"The marines and your guys have surrounded the entirety of 200 metres around the gate and we're waiting for air support to roll up to soften up before the final push!"

Itami was about to ask on what kind of air support would be coming when his query was answered before his ears.

"Attention all units, this is Overlord, air support is inbound, ETA 5 mikes. Combination of JDAMs, AGMs and Tomahawks are confirmed, danger close!"

"Shit, they bringing the pain with this one haha!" laughed Parkes as he finished off the last of the archers with a quick burst from his M249.

The tank commander came back over the radio, "Alright guys, these guys are done for! Let's move up and wait for the flyboys to soften up so they don't clog our tracks! Oorah?"

"OORAH!" was the unilateral response from the marines.

* * *

 **At the same time  
** **Sagami Bay**

"CIC confirm target lock grid coordinates," ordered Cromwell over the intercom from what remained of the bridge consoles.

"Grid coordinates are follows; sector 2-1-3 Tango Lima Sierra, gird reference 5238102,"

"Target confirmed. Tomahawk fire on my signal,"

"Roger, your signal bridge,"

"Fire!" shouted Cromwell over the receiver.

Two hatches of the forward VLS array swung open to reveal a tower flames as two Tomahawk Land Attack Missiles (TLAMs) flew into the air.

"Missiles are away, ETA impact 30 seconds,"

The cruise missiles deployed their guidance wings, throttling down the turbofan engine to enter a parabolic cruise arc to precisely impact within an 10 m CEP of its target. The two streaks of death were joined by a dozen more, all coming from the CVBG of the _Ronald Reagan_.

At the same time, a flight of five Super Hornets entered the fray, each armed with five 2000lb Mk-83s fitted with JDAM kits, allowing them to be accurately GPS guided onto the target. Perfect for a danger close strike.

* * *

"10 SECONDS!" shouted the tank captain, as he checked his wrist watch.

Ten long seconds passed by.

"OH SHIT HERE IT COMES" shouted a marine as he pointed to rumble of jets passing over.

* * *

Stammering with all his breath, Calasta ordered something he would have never thought of doing mere hours ago; "RETREAT! SEND THE SLAVES THROUGH THE GATE AND THEN FALL BACK!"

Dozens of troops began to quickly marshal whatever captured goods, including the slaves, through the gate as others prepared to make a run for it.

Calasta cupped his ears as the deafening roar of the metal dragons zoomed over him. However, nothing could've prepared him for what would happen next.

Within an instant his entire world was blinded with flashing light as the loudest sound he had ever heard burst his ear drums in terrible painful noise. His entire body was blown off his feet, as if some godly being had smashed him with a hammer, flinging his body into the air, only for his broken form to come back crashing down. Then a searing heat washed over him, glazing his golden ornate armour as his nerves were overwhelmed by the tsunami of pain signals blasting from his receptors.

* * *

"Wooohooo! Fuck yeah! GOOD FUCKING HIT!" shouted a marine as others whistled and cheered. The Japanese seemed less perceptive to the "awesome" nature of having tens of thousands of high explosive dropped on a single block of their capital city.

"Shit, it's like WW2 all over again," remarked Kuwahara.

"Except we're on the Americans side, ha" sniggered Kuribayashi.

"Alright boys! Let's finish the job the fly boys started! Move out!"

The roar of turbine engines filled the air as the Japanese-US force proceeded down the street straight into Ginza, their rifles and cannons affixed at any possible foe lurking abound.

What they found, however, was far below their expectation.

Itami, quickly running to the front of the allied formation was first to see the devastation of Ginza.

"My god."

Most of the marines looked away, while the Japanese grimaced and tried to contain at best they could their breakfasts.

Despite nearly two entire regiments of troops along with a battalion worth of armour pouring in onto the entry point and staging ground of the enemy forces, the enemy barely put up a fight. Whoever wasn't blown apart and could still wave a sword around were quickly gunned down in a hail of fire.

The cursed smell of burnt flesh and petrified bone lined the air with a thick haze, its scent noxious and terrifyingly disgusting. While the more experienced marines didn't bat an eye, those without the "fortune" to be prepared for such things, especially the Japanese, were almost brought to pure shock by what had happened.

Thousands laid dead or dying straight in what used to be Japan's busiest shopping district. Massive craters lined the asphalt streets as buildings had entire facades demolished.

Hundreds of more simply dropped their weapons in fear and cowered in fetal positions. To them, simply being alive was being spared by the god's divine judgement.

Kimberly lowered his weapon as he looked around the scene of carnage. Gazing upon what was seemingly a corpse adorned in ornate golden armour obviously tarnished by the airstrike, he was taken slightly aback when a muffled groan emitted from the body.

Shoving a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it, he took a deep breath before muttering to the important looking person.

"Welcome to Earth, asshole."


End file.
